Don't Let Me Down
by prisslyn
Summary: Bellarke. Begins around season 4 between episode 6 & 7. Clarke is injured saving Bellamy, and he must fight to save them both without letting her know that he has fallen for her. Rate M for language and possible lemons in later chapters.
1. Chapter 1

Bellamy stood tied to the large tree. His hands were starting to bleed from the raw hide digging into his skin. He didn't feel much of the pain anymore. The only pain he was considered about was hers.

Clarke was a bloody mess across from him. Tied in a similar fashion she stood on weak knees. Ice Nation had declared war and they were prisoners of war. If only he hadn't left with Roan to try the different route. Then they both wouldn't be in this mess. Roan had lost control of his clan and now they were paying the price.

Clarke sank to her knees from the blood loss and the beating. The Ice Nation warriors had taken pleasure in beating the mighty Wanheda to a bloody pulp.

"Bellamy, how's it going with the rope?" Clarke wheezed out.

Bellamy sighed in relief just to hear her voice, she was still conscious, although he wasn't sure if that was a blessing or a curse. Unconscious she might be in less pain, but he wasn't sure she would wake up again either, "They're pretty secure. Yours?"

She sighed, "Same. Damnit." She growled and tugged feebly at her restraints. They were expertly tied and any hope of escape was very slim.

"Got any bright ideas?" Bellamy asked keeping a look out for more warriors. The latest batch of brutes hadn't shown up, which he had a sinking feeling was the plan. Tie them up to some trees, steal the humvee, and leave them while they high tailed it to Polis.

"I'm thinking." Clarke snarled back. The pain in her side and her face was throbbing. She was certain they had at least cracked a rib, if not broken one.

"Okay, if I can dislocate my thumb, it might give me a little wiggle room." Clarke said aloud.

"Break your hand, intentionally? Have you lost your mind?" Bellamy asked.

"Got any other options?" Clarke asked meeting his eyes.

"Could you walk me through it? You're the medic, we might need your hands more." He growled getting ready to do the deed if necessary.

"Unfortunately, you don't know how to do it properly. With any luck I'll still have use of my hand afterwards. Just tenderness and a little swelling." Bellamy nodded, but didn't like it.

Clarke braced herself and felt for her left thumb. She wedged the joint against the tree applied pressure. Her breath whooshed out as the joint popped, but the space gave her a little wiggle room and she was able to pull one hand free. She yanked the other free.

"How bad?" Bellamy asked as Clarke winced.

"Not horrible." She said as she walked around to work on his restraints from behind the tree.

"Hardcore." He mumbled with a smile as she began to work. Just as Clarke began to pull him free he felt a jolt as she fell against the tree behind her.

"Clarke?" He asked frantically as she didn't respond. "Clarke? What happened?" Bellamy strains against the weakened bonds and pulled with all his might. He heard the rope begin to weaken and yanked harder until it felt like his shoulders would dislocate. He felt the blood start to run down his wrists and it made the rope slicker. Just as the pain got so intense he didn't think he could go any further the rope snapped.

He stumbled around the base of the tree and saw Clarke leaning against the base of the giant tree. An arrow was sticking out from her abdomen, she was applying pressure while panting.

"Clarke? Clarke?" Bellamy bent down to help her apply pressure when an arrow whizzed by where his head had been only seconds ago.

"We got to get out of here." He whispered.

"Don't take it out yet." She wheezed indicating the arrow. He nodded and reached under her knees to carry her out. He would've been faster with a fireman's carry, but he couldn't risk injuring her further.

"Hold on Clarke." He whispered and carried them as far away as he could. He got abut three miles before he had to stop. He leaned her up against one side of a large redwoods and took in the lay of the land. There might shelter ahead, but he didn't know how far. They were too far from Arcadia to even risk going that direction. It'd be death by any forest patrols.

But the storm overhead that was brewing could be black rain and if that happened, they were dead. Shelter was the only option. He looked down at her. She was paler than usual and her lips almost bloodless. The arrow was keeping the blood from gushing out of her, but the blood was still trickling slowly from the wound. He needed to seal that, but didn't have much to work with.

"You'll be okay. Hold on just a little longer." He swung her up into his arms and kept going until it felt like he had walked for miles. The sky cracked above his heads and he went to knees and wrapped Clarke, who was still unconscious, in his jacket. It would provide a little protection from the acid rain, but not much. A little protection was better than nothing. When he reached down to keep walking he saw movement to the left. A small rabbit ran off to the right, but the movement had draw his eyes to a small cave. It wasn't huge, but it was big enough for both of them to squeeze in and lay down. He could build a small fire and maybe keep the black rain out.

Gently he laid Clarke down on the cave floor. She was still breathing, but barely. He pulled his jacket back on in case he had to scoot her further into the cave and get closer to the edge of the opening. He could risk his skin with black rain, he couldn't risk hers.

"Clarke?" Bellamy asked hoping she would wake up and snarl at him. Anything was better than this silence.

"Clarke, wake up. I need you to talk me through this. Clarke!" He took her shoulder and shook her softly.

Clarke's eyes opened slightly, "Bellamy?"

"Hey, we're safe. We are in a cave. We should be safe for a little while. I need you to talk me through taking this thing out of you. We have got to stop the bleeding."

Clarke nodded, but winced when she tried to sit up. He placed his hands on her shoulders and pushed her back down, "Talk me through it first."

"I need to stop the bleeding. I can't see it. I can't tell if it's an artery, blood vessel, or vein was damaged." She winced when she tried to sit up to see the wound on her own abdomen.

"Talk me through this like I'm an idiot." Bellamy said coaxing the stubborn woman back down onto her back.

"Shouldn't be too hard to think of you as an asshat." Clarke growled.

"Well, if you feel good enough to call me an asshat, you must be feeling better, smartass," Bellamy retorted.

The response did what he wanted. Her lips tugged into a small smile, then turned into a grimace when the pain returned, "Is it oozing or gushing blood?"

"Oozing, but the arrow is stopping most of the blood flow." Bellamy said looking at the wound and trying not to think about how much it must be hurting her.

"The easiest thing would be to cauterize the blood vessel once the arrow is gone, but pulling the arrow free may make the tearing of the vessel worse, but if we don't get it out, infection will set it." The truth was, infection or blood los was going to kill her either way, "I need you to understand this Bellamy, the odds of me making it are not good."

"Shut up, that's not happening." He snarled and applied more pressure around the wound trying to stop the bleeding.

Clarke grunted, but didn't shout from the pain. She needed him to believe her next words, "No matter what happens, this wasn't your fault."

Bellamy didn't look at her, he just kept staring at his hands covering the edges of the arrow. He wouldn't meet her eyes. They both knew it was his fault. Clarke may have been the one with the brilliant plan, but he was supposed to be the one who thought ahead. Instead, he followed his gut and trusted Roan, a stupid king who couldn't control his own people. And because of that stupidity he was going to lose her.

"Bell, look at me so I know you are hearing me." Clarke covered her his trembling hands with one of her own, "Please look at me," He raised his head and met her eyes. Even in the face of death, Clarke didn't tremble. Bellamy had been terrified more times than he could count, but Clarke, bleeding out on the dirt cave floor scared him the worst, but she just stared ahead, not afraid. "Tell me you won't blame yourself."

"Me? Blame myself? Nah, not my style." He joked, but tried to hide the pure terror in his eyes. Terror from the thought of losing her. His other half, his best friend. The only person who saw him for what he was, and didn't care. Those other jerks would always see him as factory station, as lesser. He might be one of the hundred, but no matter what, less than them, a foot soldier.

She saw him as Bellamy. Just Bellamy.

"Okay." She took his joke as the only answer she was going to get.

Clarke reached slightly to her right. Bellamy's boot was within reach. She knew where he kept his hidden weapons. She pulled out a small throwing dagger from his ankle. Not much bigger than the palm of her hand.

"Make a fire, and use it to heat the tip of this. Safest way to stop infection is to cauterize the blood vessel and then if the bleeding stops, sew up the wound. It's the best we are going to get out here." Bellamy nodded and began to gather wood to start a fire.

Clarke sighed. She had already lost too much blood and her medical bag was long gone in the vehicle. She was thirsty, which was a bad sign. She needed blood, but she didn't have the tubing to do a blood transfusion and she didn't even know if Bellamy was her blood type. She had already made peace with the fact that she wasn't going to live until tomorrow.

Hopefully, she would pass away in her sleep from blood loss and not make Bellamy blame himself even more. She knew him, he held the weight of the world on his shoulders. _Just like someone else I know._ She thought with a smile, they were so alike in some ways. She had made her peace when he freed himself. She had frayed the rope as much as possible before slipping down against the tree. He was strong; he would survive. Clarke looked up as Bellamy hovered above her.

She glanced to the right. He had already built the fire and had heated the blade. He leaned back on his haunches and took off his belt. When she quirked her eyebrows he rolled his eye hastily and folded the belt onto itself, "For your teeth, princess." He placed the leather in between her lips and she bit down and nodded as he gripped the arrow. Unfortunately, the arrow hadn't shot through. The tip was lodged in her gut. He was going to have to pull it free.

Clarke nodded again and Bellamy yanked the arrow free. Clarke screamed from behind the leather in her mouth as her back bowed from the pain and she passed out.

Bellamy cauterized the wound as best he could and checked to make sure the bleeding was slowing. Clarke was limp and pale, it disturbed her, the way her body didn't move like it was alive, but he placed his ear against her chest and sighed when he heard a faint heartbeat.

Bellamy pulled out some fishing line from his pocket. He kept it mainly in case of food emergencies. There was usually a stream not too far and fish did in a pinch. Luckily, it was clean and not used. He took the sharp hook that the line was wrapped around and tied one end to it. After making sure the bleeding had completely stopped he began to stitch the wound closed. He wasn't very good at it and Clarke was going to have a gnarly scar from his mismatch work, but it would hold.

Wiping the blood away from her stomach, he pulled what was left of her shirt over the wound to protect it from the elements as much as possible. Leaning against the inside wall of the cave he sighed and watched her breathe.

He looked at his leg. The arrow had grazed him lightly, but the wound had clotted while he carried Clarke. How was it that he got grazed, but she got a stomach wound?

Life sucks.

"Just keep breathing, okay Clarke? Just keep breathing, and I'll get us back home, I promise." There wasn't much room in the cave. He leaned his head back against the rock and closed his eyes. Her left hand was within easy distance of his grasp. He took it and held it lightly between his fingers.

She would never know he was this big of a child. Needing to feel her even as he slept to make sure she was still alive. Her hand felt weird. Looking down he noticed it was the hand that she had basically broken to free herself from the restraints earlier. Bellamy took the bottom of his shirt and ripped a long strip off. He wrapped her fingers in the makeshift bandage. Maybe if he wrapped the fingers tightly enough, the swelling wouldn't be that bad. Shivering, he pulled his jacket around himself tighter. How could a place that was so green be so frigid?

Sighing again he let sleep claim him and hoping that when they both woke up, everything would be a little better.

* * *

So this is my new story. Please review and let me know what you think.


	2. Chapter 2

Something cool was running down his arm. Bellamy glanced to the side slightly and looked. Blood covered his arms, it was pooling all around him. He looked at his hands and they were covered in blood. He looked to the right. Clarke wasn't breathing. This was her blood, he had killed her. It was his fault.

"No! Please don't be dead! Please don't be dead!" Bellamy pulled Clarke's body into his embrace and rocked back and forth as more blood covered his hands. He continued to sob. It was his fault, all his fault. He had failed her.

Bellamy jerked awake and immediately regretted it. His neck screamed in pain from the awkward angle. Rubbing the back of his neck, he looked to Clarke who was still pale, but her chest lifted up and down barely. It was just a dream. He looked at his arm. It was outside the lip of he cave and the rain was starting to pour. _That's why I dreamed of blood running down my arms._

Raking his hands over his face he sighed. Just a dream. The fire had died down to just embers. Bellamy checked Clarke's pulse. She had taught him that not so long ago. It was a little slow, but steady.

Looking at her face he could see the outline of sweat. She had a fever. _Infection._ His mind whispered in a dreadful voice. Clarke may have not been dead, but he was still failing her.

There wouldn't be any new firewood now, it would all be soaked with the new rain. Bellamy stuck his hand out, just rain, not black rain. Clarke and he would need to drink something to stay hydrated. He pulled out a small baggie from one of the pouches on his cargo pants. He opened the bag and laid it outside the cave. It would collect a little water. Waiting until it was full he closed the bag and set it aside. The rain wasn't going to be letting up anytime soon and he needed to get Clarke up and drinking some water.

He scooted behind her so she was laying in his lap rather than on the cold cave floor. He gently shook her shoulder, "Clarke?" His voice was rough and dry. It felt like he swallowed bugs while sleeping. _I'm surprised my snoring didn't wake her up._ He thought while looking at her face. She looked so peaceful, but he knew better. Behind those blue eyes that were closed was someone who made the tough decisions. Someone who didn't flinch at the thought of doing what needed to be done.

"Clarke, wake up. I need you to drink this." Bellamy cradled her neck gently and poured some of the water into her mouth. Clarke didn't move but reflexively swallowed the water. He smiled and poured a little more past her her lips.

Clarke's fluttered slightly, "Clarke can you hear me?" Bellamy's voice was soft.

"What happened?" She asked, her voice like gravel.

"You passed out. I cauterized the wound and sewed it up, albeit not my best job." Clarke pulled up her shirt at his words. The stitch work was rudimentary and a little zigzagging, but it would hold nicely.

"Not bad for an asshat." She whispered and a ghost of a smile whispered across her lips.

Bellamy smiled, "Feel up to eating a little something?"

Clarke leaned back against his arm and nodded. Bellamy tore a piece of jerky off of the larger piece and placed it at her lips. She accepted it and chewed slowly. Wrinkling her noise she looked at him, "Salty." She complained.

"You need the protein, and it's all we've got." Clarke nodded slightly and kept eating while he took a couple of bites. She noticed his bites were more like nibbles and hers were full pieces. She didn't have much strength, but she wasn't going to let him starve to death. He had a better chance of surviving than her, if he didn't kill himself. She took the piece he gave to her and broke it into two pieces.

Bellamy shook his head when she reached toward his mouth. He pushed her hands away and tried to feed both pieces to her, "You need to eat too, Bellamy." She said.

"You need it more." He argued. She shook her head and took the piece and placed it at his lips.

Giving up a fight he knew was futile, he opened his mouth and she pushed the jerky forward. She wasn't fast enough, his lips caught the edges of her fingers. Her breath caught in her throat as he didn't move an inch. They both stopped breathing and time seemed to stretch into forever.

She tried to pull her fingers back, but Bellamy caught her wrist and held it in place as he swallowed the food and placed a kiss on her fingertips. It shouldn't have mattered, but it did. Bellamy had figured Clarke would make the logical decision and eat as much as possible to gain strength, but instead she had made sure he hadn't gone hungry too. It mattered and that was why he had fallen so hard for her. She acted all tough and brave like she was made of the hardest stone, but she had such a big heart hidden underneath all that bravado. A heart of glass that shattered for people who suffered and for her friends.

Clarke couldn't breathe, and it wasn't from the stomach wound. She had never seen Bellamy this vulnerable, this open with himself. He was as closed off as she was. He was just staring at her, his dark onyx eyes focused solely on her.

His hand on her skin felt like fire and it was such a chaste touch.

"Thanks Clarke." He whispered and released her wrist. Whatever spell that was there was gone with one breath and the next. Clarke nodded and tried to sit upright a little more. He helped her lean against the wall of the cave.

"No problem. How long has it been raining?" She asked and stretched her arms.

"I'm guessing a couple of hours. I passed out after I stitched you up." Bellamy explained.

Clarke nodded. Bellamy watched a she inspected her wound. He noticed that her leg was awfully close to the embers of the fire and she didn't even flinch, more concerned with the wound.

"Clarke?" Bellamy moved her leg away, but Clarke didn't help him, her leg a dead weight.

"Bellamy don-" she began.

Bellamy was horrified, Clarke's legs were dead weight, she didn't even twitch when he moved her legs. "Can you feel this?" He asked and gripped her knees. Clarke turned her head away and didn't meet his eyes, "Clarke, answer me!" He demanded.

"I'm not paralyzed, if that what you are worried about." She explained.

"Then what's going on? Why can't you move your legs?" Bellamys voice was panicked and filled with dread.

"I lost too much blood. There may be nerve damage." She explained.

"So you are paralyzed?" He countered.

"Not permanently. It's probably just temporary." She said in a small voice.

"Probably? Did I do this? Did I not lay you down right? Are you making this blood loss thing up to cover for me?" Bellamy asked afraid of the answer.

Clarke snorted and rolled her eyes, "Of course not. If you had paralyzed me, I'd kick your ass. It's just from blood loss, jackass." She growled and shifted her hips to get into a more comfortable position.

"How far are we from Arkadia?" She asked looking out into the rain.

"I'd estimate around 12 miles from the gates. I got a little turned around earlier carrying you, but I recognize the area," She nodded at his assessment.

"Might as well be two hundred miles if I can't walk," she thought aloud.

"I can carry you 12 miles." Bellamy rolled his eyes and snorted.

"Not to diminish your abilities or anything Bells, but 12 miles isn't a walk in the park. And I'm dead weight. At best, you might be able to drag me. But that would involve making something to drag me on. And I'm not seeing much brush or branches around here to use." She said looking out into the rain.

Bellamy wondered what was going through that head of hers. Whatever it was he had a distinct feeling he wasn't going to like it.

"The only option is for you to go get help." Clarke said after a minute of silence.

"Fuck that. I'm not leaving you." Bellamy argued while shaking his head.

"You can't carry me 12 miles. And there is no way to drag me without leaving an obvious trail. This is the only option." Clarke said. Her gaze still drawn out to the rain outside.

"I am not leaving you." Bellamy growled.

"Then we both die here." Clarke said with dismissiveness. The clinical tactician always, she could speak of them dying like a mathematical problem. "Eventually, we will run out of supplies and sepsis will set in without antibiotics. Right now, I'm dead, but if you can get help I and bring them back, I might just survive," she said all this looking at the rain and never at him. She couldn't look at him, she would feel that fear setting in. If she could get him to decide to leave the cave and run for help, he might survive, he would have a chance. If she didn't force him to see the reasoning behind this choice, he would stay next to her and die right along with her. She had seen his loyalty, he led with his heart, not his head, but this was the better option.

"You won't survive here without me to help." He argued.

Clarke sighed, she wasn't going to survive either way, but he needed hope, "I might. I've got enough water if I ration to last me a day, two at most. And it wouldn't take you more than one day to get back to Arkadia. Half a day to get back? I could make it." She explained and ate a piece of fruit leather and chewed it slowly.

She could see the gears turning in his head. She was starting to win him over, but she couldn't let him overthink, "Of course that's only if you leave now. Even with the rain you could still make decent time, but only if you leave right away." She mentioned while chewing.

Bellamy nodded and steeled himself as he stood up. She was right, he had to get her help. She caught his arm as he crouched beside her near the entrance to the cave.

"Stay safe, okay Bells? Don't take any stupid chances." He smiled and pulled her into a deep hug. Clarke returned the embrace and tucked her her head into the crook of his shoulder. More desperately than anything she wanted to be able to walk out of this cave with him, but she knew it to be an impossibility. _I don't want to die alone._ She thought frantically. That other voice inside her, the voice that could compartmentalize came forward. _We all die alone, but not all of use have to die today._ She took that voice and held it close. It was right, she might have to die, but Bellamy didn't. Bellamy gripped her hair and made her look at him.

"That goes double for you. Stay near what's left of the fire. Keep hidden and I'll be back with help. I promise." He whispered and hugged her tightly again.

Clarke nodded against him and pushed him to get going. He descended down the hill on light steps. She watched him maneuver around the trees with ease.

 _He'll be alright. Bellamy will live._ She thought. She looked down at the arrow wound. Putrid fluid was already leaking from underneath the stitches. Small red streaks were burrowing from the wound under her skin. She didn't have long. She leaned her head back against the cave's wall and thought back to the feeling of his lips on her fingertips. _Since I'm dying…._ She thought. She gave into the temptation and imagined what those lips would've felt like against other parts of her body. How her friend's large and calloused hands would've felt holding her tightly, not like a friend, but something more. She smiled as the fever took her under.

* * *

Sorry for the short chapter guys. Tell me what you think. Please review.


	3. Chapter 3

Bellamy looked across from where he lay. Clarke was hooked to a breathing machine. The guilt gnawed at him like waves. Always there, always returning.

The moment he returned to Arkadia came flooding back.

 _Bellamy staggered towards the gates of Arcadia. He hadn't stopped moving since he left Clarke. It was nearing dusk, he had travelled for a day and a half and hadn't stopped to even rest. His feet kept moving as he thought of her. Her smile, her hair as it flew in wild rivulets around her face. The way she looked at him, warmth in every part of her being._

" _Luke!" He cried out as his knees gave out and he slumped against his fellow soldier. Luke had been one of the few that stuck by Bellamy even after his disastrous decision to attack Triecru._

" _Bellamy, what happened? We expected you and Clarke back three days ago." He said as he held the other man upright._

 _Bellamy's breath was labored, but her name brought it rushing back, "Clarke's been hurt. I had to come get help." The next few minutes were Kane debriefing him and getting Clarke's location. Abby wouldn't let him go with the team sent to retrieve Clarke._

" _Abby, they won't find her! The entrance to the cave is too well hidden. I have to go with them!" He argued as she continued to flush his leg wound with antiseptic._

" _They will find her. You both are so stubborn. You gave Kane good directions and I'll be ready for anything when they return. She's going to be fine. You saved her." Abby said cupping his cheek. But her eyes told the truth, she was afraid that the team had been sent to retrieve a body, not her daughter._

 _Bellamy winced as she stitched up the wound and wrapped it in bandaging. He didn't care about himself. He kept watching the clock, guessing when the radio would signal with news._

" _We found —" Kane's voice crackled through the two way radio. Abby's attention flew to the device and she turned up the volume. Bellamy leaned towards the device, still confined to the bed per Abby's orders._

" _She's breathing, but—damnit." Kane growled. Nothing else came through._

" _What happened? What's wrong? Abby?" Bellamy begged as the radio remained silent._

" _Switching to channel four." Kane alerted. Abby understood the message. Unfortunately, so did Bellamy. They wanted to switch to a different communication line so he couldn't hear the message. Abby left the portable radio on her desk, just far enough out of Bellamy's reach and headed to the comms room to listen more carefully._

 _Bellamy swung his legs over and stretched as far as his arm would allow. Abby had handcuffed the other hand to the bed, so he couldn't get up. She threatened to handcuff the other, but he had talked her out of it, what if he had to use the bathroom?_

 _She had allowed that one freedom. His fingers touched the edge of the radio and then he had it in his hands. Fiddling with dials he switched it to channel four._

" _How's her body temperature?" Abby asked._

" _It's clammy, Abby, she's too cold, but also sweating so much!" Kane exclaimed, not understanding the significance._

" _She's septic. Get her back here as soon as you can. Are there red streaks coming from the wound?" Abby asked._

" _Yes. They're not at her heart yet, but not too far from it." Kane said, his voice trembling. Even he knew what that meant._

" _Get her back here, now." Abby commanded. No waver in her voice. As long as Clarke was still breathing, Abby wouldn't give up._

 _Bellamy dropped the radio and leaned back on the bed. He had left her to die alone and it was his fault she was dead. He should have ignored her stupid advice and dragged her back to Arcadia by his bare hands._

The constant beeping and whoosh of the breathing tube grated on Bellamy nerves. They reminded him that Clarke was in a coma because of him and not able to regain consciousness. Due to the blood loss, she coded three times before they got her heart going again. The sepsis had subsided, but she still remained in a coma. Abby said the only reason she could think of was the blood loss. Abby said Clarke's body needed to heal itself, that's why she was stuck in the comma.

Bellamy sat in the wheel chair and held Clarke's hand, "Come on, Clarke. Wake up! Say something, damnit. We need you." He whispered. "I….I need you." He whispered as his lips touched the center of her hand.

"Bellamy, what are you doing here so late? You need rest." Kane said from the doorway.

"Abby says coma patients can hear everything, so I figured if I talked to her, she might wake up. I wanted her to know that I didn't leave her. I was coming back, but you and Abby wouldn't let me." Bellamy said.

Kane sighed, "She knows that. Abby said Clarke was so septic she had to have been that way when you left to get help."

Bellamy turned to Kane, "You mean, she knew she was going to die and she still told me to leave her and get help?"

Kane went to his haunches so he was eye level with the young man who reminded him so much of himself, "The Griffin women are the most self-sacrificing bunch I have ever met. Clarke knew she was a goner, and so she sent you to get help so that at least you would be okay. My guess is that it gave her some sort of comfort to know you wouldn't die out there in the elements."

Bellamy jerked away from Kane's gaze and his eyes landed on Clarke's face, "She didn't have a right to do that. She should've told me. I wouldn't have left her if I knew she was this sick."

"She's not gone yet. She'll pull through and you can give her a piece of your mind when she wakes up." Kane gripped Bellamy's shoulder and squeezed.

Bellamy nodded and turned back to Clarke, "You wake up Clarke." Bellamy growled and gripped her hand harder.

Abby watched as Bellamy sat next to her daughter's bed. He had fallen asleep on his arms next to her hand. She wondered if Clarke knew he was in love with her.

She thought with a smile of course her daughter knew. Her daughter was one of the most observant people she had ever met. Clarke would know and wouldn't encourage it. Her daughter had been so hurt by love. First they lost Finn, in such a hard way. Then Lexxa, the complete opposite of Finn, was lost so similarly. Everyone Clarke loved was taken her from her, they all died in Clarke's arms and she couldn't do anything to stop it. It wasn't fair and she had become so afraid of letting anyone back in.

Bellamy was weaving himself into Clarke's piece by piece, so softly, so quietly. If anyone had a chance of helping Clarke recover and wake up, it was him.

She watched as the young man, that she had watched grow up in and out of her clinic, shook himself awake and ran a hand down his face and then threw that mess of black locks. She couldn't think of anything more different from her daughter. Dark and light. Mind and heart. Logic and emotion, but together they made Arkadia what it was, a home. They were the glue that held everyone together, if they lost either of them, this place and these people were doomed.

Abby walked over and handed Bellamy a fresh cup of coffee, "Here, you need this." She said.

Bellamy nodded his thanks and sipped at it, "If she ever wakes up, give her a cup. She likes more cream and sugar than coffee in it, but it'll remind her that she is home." Bellamy smiled and had the absurd idea to make Clarke a cup of coffee and hold it under her nose. Maybe her love of caffeine would help her snap out of it. He snorted at the image and sipped more coffee.

* * *

Seven weeks. It had been seven weeks since Bellamy had left Clarke to die. That's how he felt anyways.

He side stepped Kane's jab and pivoted on his foot to deliver a nasty jab of his own. The punch landed solidly in Kane's jaw. As the hit reverberated up his arm he switched tactics and swept Kane's feet out from underneath him.

"Damn, that was too cool!" Colby called from the sides as Bellamy helped Kane to stand. Bellamy said nothing and nodded at Kane in thanks for the sparring session. Pulling on his shirt and jacket he headed outside to the fresh air.

Clarke hadn't moved in the seven weeks since the team brought her home. He was completely healed. The only thing he did was train, eat, sleep, drink and sleep with nameless women. He was sure they had names, but none of them mattered to him. The bodies that he rode and that took turns using him were sexual relief, nothing else. The only woman he cared about was laying in that bed dying a little bit more each day. He hated himself a little more each time he kissed someone else's lips or placed his fingertips on their hips. Every release he received was numbing.

Abby was terrified of admitting it, but they had a decision to make and soon. He knew the decision and knew if they made it, he would walk out of the camp and never come back. He would follow Clarke's example and walk into the forest and find a way to die on his own terms. There was no fucking way he was letting anyone turn those machines off, not without a fight. He'd die bloody before he let them take her away.

He hadn't realized it. He had walked about a mile away from the camp. He looked at the giant redwood in front of him. It was sneering at him. It had stood for hundreds of years and would survive many more storms, many more earthquakes and more fire than he could imagine, but she couldn't. She was so much more fragile than he even could've figured.

That thought angered him. She had laid her head down on the cold ground and just given up. Given up on him coming back, given on seeing her mother again, given up on him. _YOU GAVE UP!_ His mind screamed and when he opened his eyes, his clenched fist was embedded in the red giant's center. His hands were still taped from sparring with Kane, but he knew his hand was injured. He shrugged out of his jacket and took turns switching from right to left, letting the impact of the tree stagger up his arm. His muscles trying to save his bones from the impact. He liked the pain, he liked the hate, it made him feel something, anything at all. He deserved all of it and more. He had left her, he had left her to die with a smile on her face. _Useless piece of shit!_ He thought panting as he slid to he floor of the forest. The forest didn't care that he was a thoughtless, arrogant piece of shit. The leaves, and dirt and mud would accept his offering of repentance, of flesh and blood and take it all in. He covered his eyes with his hands to block out the sight of her. She wasn't even dead yet and she was haunting him.

He barked out a laugh of pure hatred, "At least if she haunts me, she won't be completely gone." The laughter bubbled up in his throat and he laughed until he fell to the side grasping at his side. The forest floor was covered in rich dirt and decay. The deep smell reminded him of the last time he had held her in his arms. Slowing feeding her, helping her gain what little strength she had. The thought brought tears to Bellamy's eyes and the laughter turned to sobs as he cried in the forest. The trees would keep his sorrow, his self loathing, his love for her. The forest would keep it all.

* * *

"What happened here?" Abby asked taking in Bellamy's bruised and bloodied hands.

"Eh, took it too hard sparring." He shook off the concern and continued to sip coffee while watching Clarke breathe.

"Bellamy, we need to talk about Clarke." Kane said from the doorway. His arms were crossed loosely across his chest.

Bellamy knew full well what the discussion would entail, "No." He said definitely before either Abby or Kane could say anything.

"Bellamy, she wouldn't want to live this way. Not Clarke. Not my Clarke." Abby said, her voice cracking on the second "Clarke".

"So, what? You just give up on her?" Bellamy slung the insult as harshly as he could. He hated to be cruel, but he needed to shock Abby out of being this docile broken thing. He needed determined Abby. Abby who never gave up on anyone, let alone Clarke. He would be cruel for her.

"No, I've tried multiple drug therapies. Her body is giving up. There is nothing left to do." Abby defended her decision. Standing up straighter she said tightly, "And as her next of kin, it's my decision."

Bellamy turned and faced both of them while he leaned his hip against Clarke's bed. He pulled his side arm from behind. He had smuggled it in tucked under his t-shirt, "Either of you come this way, I'll shoot you. I'll feel bad about it, but I'll shoot you either way. And I'll shoot anyone else you send."

Bellamy kept the gun aimed generally in their direction. He would not kill either of his friends, but he wound them enough to keep them away.

Kane tried to approach from the right, but Bellamy raised the weapon, "Don't do it." He said calmly as Kane stopped, but kept his body turned towards Bellamy.

Abby was about to use a dart gun to sedate Bellamy, when a crashing of beeps cascaded from behind him, "Clarke?" Bellamy breathed. He turned towards he and Kane used the opportunity to tackle him to the ground. The older man kicked the gun away and pinned Bellamy's hands behind his back as he handcuffed him.

Abby lunged over both the struggling men and headed towards her daughter's side. The beeps were becoming less and less. Abby turned towards Kane and Bellamy, tears in her eyes.

"She's going." She whispered covering her mouth as tears fell down her cheeks.

Bellamy struggled harder under Kane, screaming out every foul thing he could think of. When the beeping began to slow even further, Bellamy tried to buck Kane's hold off him like a wild animal, "HOW CAN YOU LET HER GO WITHOUT A FIGHT! SHE WOULD NEVER GIVE UP ON YOU! HOW CAN YOU DO IT! HOW! HOW!" Bellamy screamed, his voice going hoarse from yelling.

Abby turned back to her child and stared. She knew Bellamy was right, but she couldn't keep Clarke on life support forever.

"It should've been me." Bellamy's voice was a muffled whisper against the floor as he gave up fighting. "I should've died out there, not her." He turned his face to the floor and said nothing as the beeping got even slower.

"CLARKE!" Bellamy screamed one last time. Abby couldn't do it, she couldn't stand there and watch Clarke slip away. She charged up the defibrillator and placed the sticky pads on Clarke's chest.

Once charged she sent three consecutive shocks to Clarke's chest. The flatline beep continued. She started CPR and prayed she wasn't too late. After the tenth round of breathing and pumping Clarke's chest. Kane grabbed her arm, "Abby, it's time to let go." He whispered.

Abby threw his arm off and continued, on the second shock she got a sinus rhythm. Kane and now Bellamy who was sitting up on his knees stopped breathing as Abby pulled a syringe from a tray next to Clarke's head and pushed the drug into the IV bag hanging close to Clarke.

The beeping continued until it was almost a normal rhythm. They all held their breath as Clarke's eyes fluttered. Bellamy was standing behind Kane kept his eyes on Clarke's face like a target. Clarke's eyes fluttered open.

Abby took a pen light and clicked them in front of Clarke's vision, "Normal pupil response." Abby noted clinically, "Clarke, can you hear me? It's mom. Bellamy and Kane are here too. Clarke, can you hear me?"

Clarke's head bobbed barely and Abby clapped a hand over her mouth in surprise, shock and joy. Kane wrapped his hands around Abby's shoulder in response.

Bellamy pulled his hands beneath his knees so they were cuffed in front of him instead. He placed his hands together on Clarke's feet at the bottom of the bed. Clarke's eyes found him, there was recognition. _She's really in there._

"Kane, can you take Bellamy away for a couple of hours. I need to make an assessment." Kane nodded and grabbed Bellamy by the collar of his jacket and led him to the lock up. He could cool off there.

"Assessment? What does she mean? Clarke's awake!" Bellamy exclaimed.

"Bellamy, Clarke's been in a coma for almost two months. People who wake up from coma's are changed sometimes. And it may take her a while to come around completely, plus she might need physical therapy to get her strength back."

"We can do that. We can totally do that, I'll help. You guys just tell me what to do. Whatever she needs." He said eagerly.

Kane was happy that Bellamy was full of joy, but he knew the truth. Clarke had a long road of recovery in front of her, and she might never be the same Clarke they all knew. He didn't have the heart to tell the young man in front of him that. He would let Bellamy discover that fact on his own. Life was shitty enough.


	4. Chapter 4

_Clarke felt the fetid leaves beneath her cheek. She had laid her head down a few hours ago. The weight of her neck too much to bear. She had laid on her arm, but her neck had lolled to the side. She wasn't strong enough to sit up now. The sepsis sapping all her strength._

 _The view she had was of the forest floor. Her hand outstretched in front of her. Bellamy would make it, that was what was in important._

 _She felt tears brim her eyes as she thought of the way his fingertips had felt against her skin. It was such an innocent touch, but now she would never get to see what could've been. After her decision at Mount Weather she had lost a piece of herself. Then Lexa's death had shattered any sense of self she had rebuilt. How could losing someone be more painful dying. Dying was peaceful, a release, living, going on without the person you loved was the real hell. Lexa's voice sounded inside her head. How could she give up so easily, without fighting? She knew the answer, so the people she still cared about would live._

 _Clarke's fingertips dig into the rich earth as concentrated on her breathing. She felt the fever flood her veins with more poison with each breath she took._

 _She took a shuddering breath and let the tears fall. No one would see her this weak, the trees would keep her secret. She wasn't strong, she wasn't a leader. She was just a girl who had lost everything._

 _She closed her eyes and sighed as the tears continued to drop from her eyes. Finn's dark smirk flashed in front of her. She grimaced as she felt the blade sink into his chest._

 _Clarke jerked slightly as the hallucination came full circle and she stared at the forest floor again. She tried to stay awake but the demons came back. Dragging her down. Lexa's smiled at her as they laid in bed together. Clarke traced the deep groves of her tattoos along her back. For such a strong warrior, terribly hardened by her birthright, she was so beautiful. Lexa's bright green eyes flashed in challenge as she rolled atop Clarke, her braided hair falling around their faces creating a silky curtain that was scented with the earthy scent of Lexa. Lexa's deep scent enthralled Clarke. Lexa wiggled her hips making Clarke giggle and then the hardened blonde warrior moaned as Lexa began to suckle at the skin between Clarke's neck and shoulder._

 _Clarke felt the moisture of her lover's kiss and then began to scream as she realized it wasn't Lexa's kisses on her neck, but Lexa's lifeblood. Clarke was rocking back and forth with Lexa in her arms. Her lifeless corpse a broken doll, a sad imitation of the woman who was so full of life just minutes ago._

 _Clarke gasped awake as the nightmare released her._

" _Please stop. Let me die. Why do you have to do this to me?" She whispered to no one. No one gave her an answer, no one imparted wisdom. She took another breath and tried not to fall asleep again. She didn't want anymore nightmares, but she couldn't fight the fever or the exhaustion._

 _Skin peeled hands, rotting digits dragging along her legs. Clarke stood in the middle of Mount Weather as her victims swarmed around her. Their dead corpses animated, jerking with unholy life. Maya, sweet Maya, grabbed at her shirt and ripped away Clarke's clothing and bra. The corpse dragged her decomposing nails through Clarke's skin. Putrid liquid squirted from beneath nails. Dragging the foul smelling fluid into Clarke's bleeding wounds. Her victims irradiated skin sloughed off as they crawled towards her. Clarke screamed wordlessly as they began to tear her apart. She looked down and a bleeding pale Finn began to reach for her knee. When she tried to run, Lexa, dead, with her head blown out the back wrapped her arms around Clarke from behind._

" _You belong with us. Bringer of Death, death is what you are good at. You are no healer, you are a murderer. A killer, so good at it, so talented in bringing it to others."_

" _Clarke! Clarke can you hear me!?" Clarke felt like her blood was on fire. She opened her eyes to Bellamy holding her face in his head._

" _Clarke?" He asked._

" _Sorry, so sorry." She whispered._

 _Kane kept holding Clarke's face in his hands. Trying to revive her._

" _Did she say something?" Ajay asked as Kane tried to revive Clarke. Kane shook his head. Clarke hadn't regained consciousness._

Clarke shot awake and instantly regretted the sharp movement. Her muscles were still atrophied and weak. She had barely any muscle mass left and felt like a living skeleton. Her bones jutted out from her skin, making a mockery of what little strength she could form. She glanced at the clock. It jeered at her by blinking 02:43 am back at her. Running a hand down her face she tried to massage feeling back into her face. Swinging her legs over he side of the bed she planted her feet on the cold steel floor of her quarters.

She pulled up her shirt to reveal her abdomen. The jagged scar the only reminder she had been so close to death. Her fingers trembled as she traced the rough skin.

"Well, I'm not going back to sleep. Fuck off, all of you." She growled at her demons. She had always had nightmares since the becoming a grounder. They had started when she put Atom down. The nightmares of Wells' death and Charlotte's suicide. She had thought those were bad. Then she had been introduced to the big leagues. She was barely staying afloat then. She was lucky she wasn't insane. Or maybe it would be better if she was mad, mad people don't seem to mind being crazy and they certainly don't sweat the big stuff, like the apocalyptic wave of burning radiation heading their way.

Clarke popped her neck and stood up stretching her weakened muscles and flexing her stiff fingers. Her muscles were slowly redeveloping, but she couldn't shake this really weird permanent stiffness and temperature drop in her fingers. There was probably serious circulation damage, but she couldn't dwell on that. Pulling her hair up into a high ponytail she pulled on a pair of cargo pants and black t-shirt. She pulled on her jacket last. She had worried they wouldn't be able to salvage it after the had cut it off her, but Monty had found a way to put it back together.

Heading to the makeshift Arkadia mess hall she grabbed a strong cup of coffee and stepped outside into the sad version of a courtyard they had. Not a soul was awake at this hour, while she appreciated the quiet, it was also the darkest part of the night. Something eerie always floated on the air at this time. Flexing her fingers again, she figured maybe she would start painting again. She hadn't been able to indulge in that particular vice since she'd been sent to the ground. She had already done the math and with the amount of supplies they had the number of people they had in Arkadia the bunker wasn't big enough for even half their people. _Might as well enjoy the time we have left._

She wasn't going to take up space in that salvation raft. Weak as she was, she wasn't sure that she wouldn't end up comatose again if she ended up malnourished. No, her coma had perfect timing. Making her comatose for the last seven weeks of living she could do, and just weak enough to be a liability if enclosed in the bunker.

"Shit." She breathed and her breath puffed through the open air in a cloud of white.

"Something on your mind?" A voice said from behind her.

Clarke didn't turn, she knew the voice all to well, "What are you doing up at this time?"

"Same thing as you." Bellamy replied.

"Contemplating fate?" Clarke supplied sardonically.

"Nah, too deep for me. Couldn't sleep." He said quietly and took a seat on a makeshift bench.

Clarke nodded and took the seat next to him and sipped her coffee.

They were both silent. Strangely, it wasn't an uncomfortable silence. They were comfortable just breathing in the night air together, not talking was fine.

Clarke eventually broke the silence, "Aren't you going to ask me if I'm okay?" She joked.

"Why? I already know the answer. We are both too fucked up to ever be fine again." He said sipping his own coffee.

"Gee, don't sugar coat it." Clarke said.

Bellamy shrugged, "It's always been the truth between us. I don't see any reason to change that now." He said staring off into the distant forest, not really looking at anything.

"The truth, huh? Some truth." Clarke grumbled and sat her cup on the bench standing up.

"What's the matter?" Bellamy said reclining in his same position, crossing his ankles casually in front of him.

"We both nearly died, you from exertion, me from sepsis and we are all going to have to make some horrible decisions in the next few days and you're just good the way it is? Truth? We don't know the meaning of the word." Clarke spat pouring out her coffee.

"What are you talking about?" Bellamy asked setting his coffee to the side.

"Let's see. We are only a few days away from certain death, no supplies and barely enough room for half our people to survive in an ancient bunker. Or let's look at the pst three years. We killed hundreds in Mount Weather! Hundreds, we made that decision. Maybe Primafaya is justice. The price we have to pay for our sins."

Bellamy didn't speak for a second, "You are sleep deprived." He judged, shaking off her declaration.

Clarke squatted, her knees jutting out as she sat on her haunches as if the world was weighing her down, "Bellamy, haven't you ever wondered why we can't find peace. We haven't had any semblance of peace since we sentenced to crash to this earth," on the word earth she sank her fingers into the dirt, "We haven't had one moment of peace. Grounders, lack of food, Mount Weather, Ally, now this wave of radiation. No wonder I can't sleep. This is punishment."

Bellamy sat forward, "Punishment? For what?"

"For taking a life, taking so many lives." Clarke whispered, the past haunting her. Not just her past on the ground, but before that. She had lost her father, because she couldn't keep her mouth shut. She had lost her freedom because of this so called truth.

Bellamy went to his own knees in front of Clarke, "Clarke you didn't take anyone's life. You can't bear that burden alone. We both pulled that switch at Mount Weather. It wasn't our fault, we had to do it." Bellamy tried to touch her hand, built she jerked away.

"I'm not talking about just Mount Weather. Don't you see! Everyone I love dies! My dad, Finn, Lexa. I bring death to everyone I love! I really am Wanheda." She whispered, fear dilating her pupils.

Bellamy couldn't stand to see that look of such abject terror on her face, "No! No! You are Clarke Griffin, not Wanheda. Don't let that into your head." Bellamy commanded. He tried to pull her into a hug, but she pushed him away.

He watched helplessly as she stumbled away, "Fuck." He cursed as he couldn't do anything but stand there.

* * *

Clarke laid in her bed that afternoon staring at the ceiling. She had run herself into exhaustion and then sponge bathed in order to conserve what water they had. Her mother had checked in on her earlier, but she was so consumed with checking inventory for the trip that she had to get back to the medbay as soon as possible. Jackson was assisting her, but they were swamped.

Someone knocked lightly on her door, "It's open." She said hoarsely. She hadn't drank much water today, but she didn't really care about it either way. If she was going to die by primafaya anyways, why waste resources.

"Hey." Bellamy said entering and closing the door behind him as he walked towards her. He held two cups of water.

He didn't ask for permission, he just sat down in front of her bed. Setting both cups of water in the floor he met her eyes.

"Bellamy, what are you doing here? Shouldn't you be doing a perimeter check?" Clarke asks turning towards him slightly.

"Eh, not much of a perimeter left. Most people are heading towards the bunker. If they're not on their way, they're packing to go that way." He explained.

"Why aren't you with them?" Clarke asked.

"I pulled my name from the list." He said without explanation.

"You can't do that. You have to go with Octavia. Be the balance, help her lead with Indra." Clarke exclaimed.

Bellamy shook his head, "I already discussed it with O. I saw that you pulled your name from the list. You don't go, I don't go." He said gently.

Clarke shook her head and reached to cup his cheek. Love for this stupid man overfilling every protective instinct for her heart she had.

She stopped reaching for him, once she realized what she was doing. She started to pull her hand back when he captured it and tugged it to his face. Her fingers caressed the toughness of cheek. Even with a light stopping of stubble his cheek still felt wonderful under her grip. Hard as granite, he was chiseled from stone, but so welcoming that she forgot for a second why they never found each other before this.

Bellamy sighed, then placed his hand over her own. Ignoring her outburst he asked, "Why the hell are your hands so cold?" He took her other hand and the one from his face and cupped then between his own. Then he blew warm arm into the small space lightly rubbing her frigid digits.

Clarke shrugged, "Weird left over symptom. Bellamy—" She began.

He stopped her by leaning over suddenly and kissing her. He didn't want to hear her argument, could care less about her logic. Clarke was so stunned she didn't move. But when he deepend the kiss by running his tongue lightly against her lips, asking for entrance, she obliged. He didn't hesitate and tasted her fully. Taking his time in kissing her fully. He had kissed so many women, but Clarke was what he had dreamed about. Gently he cupped her face, and kept kissing her, taking the time to feel every curve of her face. Tasting each lip by kissing both her top and bottom.

He didn't stop until she gently placed her hand on his jacket. He met her eyes once he stopped touching her, "Why did you do that?" Confusion, and lust clouding her gaze. Bellamy loved the look of innocent confusion and desire swirling in her eyes.

He shrugged, "I promised myself if you ever woke up , I'd do that. I gave it a week. I should be nominated for sainthood, don't you think?" He jeered.

Clarke smiled, "More devil than saint." She mused.

Bellamy chuckled, "Devils has more fun anyways." He said mischievously and kissed her once more chastely on the lips.

They didn't speak for a minute, just staying at each other. His gaze turned serious, "Your my life, Clarke. Octavia is my family, but so are you. I don't know when it happened, but somewhere along the way, you became someone I don't want to live without." He blurted.

Clarke sat dumbfounded for a minute. His confession making her head spin as much as his kisses had.

"What are you saying?" She asked.

Bellamy didn't think about sorting through his words, he just said what he felt, "Even if we've only got a few days. I want to be the one you come to with the nightmares. I want to hold you, in the dark, so you aren't afraid. I want you to hold me, love me. I l-love you, Clarke." He whispered the last with a slight stammer.

"Bellamy, you don't have to do this. You don't have to say this just because we are going to die." She said.

Bellamy rolled his eyes. Even when he poured his soul out for her, she still didn't believe him. He couldn't really blame her. He hadn't set the best examples, sleeping with half the camp, always doing the wrong thing, always doing the rash thing, but he knew this was right. She was meant for him.

"You are it for me, Clarke." She started to argue but he shook his head and covered her lips with his hand. "No. Don't argue. You don't have the feel the same way, and I understand if you don't. You've been hurt a lot, so I get it. But if we only have a couple of days I needed to say that. More importantly I needed you to hear that. I've got to go talk with Monty before he leaves for the bunker. I'll be back before lights out and we can talk more then, okay?"

Clarke nodded silently and watched him leave in stunned silence. Leaning down she took a swig of the water he had left for her. She wished it had been something a little stronger than water.


	5. Chp 5

Bellamy hugged Monty goodbye and looked at the horizon. The sun was beginning to set. It really was a beautiful view.

Bellamy rubbed the back of his neck as he thought to what he had told Clarke earlier this afternoon. He didn't know what had come over him. He was more than slightly embarrassed about what he had, but he couldn't regret it. He had laid his cards on the table, no matter what at least she knew how he felt about her now.

Looking down at his clothing he took a whiff. None of them had been able to bathe much, due to scarce resources, but he was pretty ripe. Taking his leave he headed to one of his favorite spots. It was a small lake off to the West that had moderately clear water. Grabbing a pair of boxers and a towel he headed to it.

Pulling off his dirty clothes he submerged into the icy water. It shocked him at first locking all his muscles in place, but then he sank deeper, enjoying the freezing water. Dipping his head he ran the water through his hair and shook it out like a dog as he emerged from the water. He submerged again and let the water wash all the grime, blood, and filth from his tired body. He couldn't remember the last time he had cleaned off. Grabbing his spiked clothing from the bank he dipped it into the water, trying to rinse a little of the stench off.

He was concentrating so hard on cleaning his clothes he didn't notice two pairs of glacial blue eyes watching him from the shadows of the surrounding forest that rimmed one side of the lake.

Bellamy surfaced with a flourish and flipped his hair out of his face. Turning around to get out he stopped when he saw Clarke. She was sitting on the bank of the lake, her feet already in the water, but only her feet.

"You look different with your hair wet." She commented as she let the fishes nibble at her toes. She was still clothed, but her eyes were almost glowing blue in the fading light of the sun. It was strange. Most red and orange sunsets made people's eyes seem less bright. Not Clarke's eyes. She seemed to have some kind of blue fire glowing behind those deep blue orbs.

Bellamy continued to tread the water, not daring to get closer. He was afraid to break the spell, not saying a word. Clarke looked like some kind of embodiment of Artemis. Her long blonde hair was curled in unruly rivulets around her head, her outfit a simple pair of cargo pants and tank top that hugged her curves and as she dangled her feet in the water, he imagined that had he been a primitive grounder, who saw this glorious beauty enjoying the water, he might've thought she was some kind of huntress goddess that had come from on high.

"Guess we both had the same idea. Bath in the lake sound like a good idea to you, too?" She asked and met his eyes.

Bellamy shut down his emotions and turned on the charm. She was like some kind of small animal. If he approached her head on, she was going to bolt. But if he came to her softly, deceptively, maybe she wouldn't run.

"Nah, just thought we'd both freeze our asses off for the fun of it." He joked and splashed water at her.

She let the water land on her pants, but smiled. Pulling one leg out of the water, she bent her knee and rested her hand on it.

"You as cold as you look?" She asked.

Bellamy shook his head, "Toasty warm in here." He lied and smirked.

Clarke barked out a laugh and looked at the stars. The moon was starting her climb to the sky and Clarke wanted to enjoy the view.

"I've been thinking about what you said." Clarke said as she stared at the sky.

Bellamy snorted, "That's your problem, Clarke. You think too much." He said dipping his head under the water.

"And you don't think about anything at all." She retorted, but no one her heard her response, as Bellamy was still under water.

He surfaced a little closer to her, but not quite close enough to touch.

"And? What decision did all this thinking lead to?" He asked.

Clarke shrugged, "Guess." She commanded.

"Nope. I don't play games with people. That's your m.o." He replied, hurt swimming behind his eyes.

Clarke sighed, "I don't know how to be the person you need. I've never been open with myself." She confessed.

Bellamy swam closer to her, placing his hands on her one knee that was laying lazily as her foot dangled in the water, "Why don't you let me worry about what I need and focus on yourself." Bellamy said and flipped his hair away from his eyes.

Clarke's lip trembled, "Because, if I focus on myself, I have to admit that I've wanted to kiss you since we met. I have to admit that I never let myself feel that want."

Bellamy cocked his head to the side, "Why not?"

Clarke kept staring at a mole on his arm, she traced the sun kissed warmth of his skin as he rested his arm on her knee. Gently tracing circles on his arm, he let her touch him. He would never tell her to stop touching him, no matter how innocent the touch. To be touched by her was to be owned by her, and that was all he wanted.

"You ignited something fierce in me. I didn't want to admit that I wanted someone as—"

"Good looking?" Bellamy finished with a fake broody smirk.

Clarke didn't smile, "Dangerous. Someone as dangerous as you." She finished.

"Dangerous? How was I dangerous?" He asked, seriousness replacing his playfulness.

Clarke met Bellamy's soulful gaze, "Dangerous to me. You could really hurt me." She said still tracing the lines of his arms gently.

Bellamy gripped her thigh gently, "I would never hurt you. Never. Clarke, even when I was plotting to take your damn wrist cuff off by taking your hand I realized I couldn't do it. I had the chance to let you drop to your death in that trap pit, and I just couldn't do it. Even that early, you had become someone I needed. I took me a little longer to realize how much I needed you. I will never hurt you." Bellamy promised, placing a small kiss on her knee gently.

Clarke smiled, "I didn't mean hurt me that way. I know you would never physically hurt me. I'd kill you if you even tried." She joked.

He snorted in laughter. She was just as deadly as he was, she had said it jokingly, but he knew she wouldn't hesitate to put him six feet under if he crossed that line, not that he ever would.

Clarke stared at the sky, looking at the stars. If she looked at Bellamy she would start to cry and she didn't want to be that vulnerable, "When I lost Finn, I didn't think anything else could ever hurt that bad. Then I lost Lexa." Her breath stuttered as Lexa's name left her lips. The pain of losing her as real as any wound she had ever experienced.

Bellamy hugged her leg with both arms. He knew her pain, knew how much it hurt to loose someone you loved. He had felt that same loss when he had lost Gina. It had made him a little insane.

"I was terrified if I let myself love you as more than a friend and then lost you, I might not survive." She whispered, afraid to say the truth. There was no "might" to it, she wouldn't survive the loss of someone else she loved.

"You would survive. We are nothing if not survivors." Bellamy said quietly, looking at the water. He turned around and faced the lake. Clarke dropped both her legs into the water around his body. Bellamy reclined against the bank of the lake. The soft grass teasing his back. He intertwined his arms around her legs, comfortably resting against her.

She reached down and ran her fingers absentmindedly through his wet hair. Bellamy leaned back into her touch, closing his eyes.

"We didn't survive, not really. Both you and me are a long way away from those teenagers that came off the drop ship. We changed the moment the we made a decision that affected more than just our lives." She said.

Bellamy opened his eyes, "We might be different, but we are still the same people."

"Really? You still the same man whore? Am I still the idealist who believes in the good in everyone? Hardly." She snorted.

Bellamy smiled at being called a man whore. He really was a bit of a slut when the drop ship first arrived on earth. And she had been the idealist who believed in rules and truth and the good in people. After Charlotte's death, I think they both were forever changed, an innocence lost for good.

 _Fuck it._ Clarke thought. She wanted to feel something other than despair, something other than loss, death and terror.

She leaned down, her body enveloping the warmth of Bellamy, surrounding him with the citrus scent of her body. Both her hands travelled over his neck, down his collarbone to rest lightly on his pecs.

Bellamy didn't move as Clarke's hands rested on him, he was afraid to even breathe. Her lips hovered near his left ear, "Do you promise not to ever leave me, Bellamy Blake?" She asked.

Bellamy turned around in a heartbeat of time and stared at her. Taking her face in his hands he cradled all that beauty and met her hard stare dead on, "I promise to make these last days count. I promise, I won't leave you until you close your eyes and we both go wherever people go when they die. You won't be alone when you die, Clarke. I'll be right there with you. I'll hold you as we burn, and I'll never let go of you." He whispered against her cheek as he drew her into a deep hug.

Without hesitation, Clarke drew her shirt over her head and slid into the water. The water rippled into gentle waves as she pulled him into an embrace that seared them both so deeply.

Bellamy wrapped his arms around the crazy woman. He held her tightly as he shuddered out a breath he didn't know he had been holding. "I love you, Clarke."

Clarke's voice was full of tears as she tightened her hold on him. One hand in his hair, one on his waist, "I love you, Bellamy." Her voice was so quiet he could barely hear it, but he did hear it. Her promise so profound it rocked him to his core.

Clarke clasped each side of his face in her hands, "Make me forget about tomorrow. Make me forget about all of it. Please." She begged.

Bellamy dipped his head began to kiss the life it of her. She unbuckled her pant, shimmied out of them, and threw them soaking wet onto the shore next to his discarded clothes. Bellamy drew her legs around his waist and backed them up against the soft grass.

Bellamy stopped kissing her and looked into Clarke's eyes, "Are you sure? Once we do this, I'm never going to give you up. I'll kill anyone who so much as looks at you." He growled, something primal rumbling in his chest.

"Ditto." She breathed. Reaching her hand beneath the waterline she grasped his length in her hand. Bellamy shuddered and rested his head on her forehead. He didn't fight her for control. He was her slave, in every way, she controlled him, the very best of his heart. If she wanted to sink her teeth into, draw his blood, make him beg, he would never hesitate. All he was belonged to her.

She angled her body and used the leverage he had provided by holding their bodies together as she sheathed him inside her. They both gasped as he slid into her. They felt made for each other.

"Oh God, Clarke," Bellamy whispered as she held him immobile inside her.

"Let's see what you've got Blake." She teased.

Dark desire flashed in Bellamy's eyes at the playful dig. Reaching up, he pinned both her hands against the soft grass as he manipulated her lower body by rotating his hips is slow circles.

Sparks flew behind Clarke's eyes as they fluttered in ecstasy.

"Open your eyes." Bellamy commanded as he drew all the way out and slammed into her brutally. Clarke felt the impact ricochet up her spine in a mix of pleasure and light pain. "I want you here, with me. Only me." He grunted as he continued to thrust.

"Ah." Clarke gasped as he nibbled his way down her chest. Biting and sucking at the delicate flesh there. Clarke arched her back as he took his time playing with her breasts. Tugging, teasing, biting and suckling until she couldn't breathe straight.

"Say my name." Bellamy commanded on a particular hard thrust. He had given up holding her hands and was now cradling her magnificent ass in his hands. Making each thrust go deeper and deeper.

Clarke's head spun with so much pleasure she thought she might pass out, but she refused to give into his request.

"Say. My. Name." Bellamy ordered. He punctuated each word with a deep thrust.

Clarke felt herself nearing the edge as she learned forward and pulled Bellamy into a searing hug, "I love you, Bellamy." She gasped into his ear.

Bellamy groaned and lost all semblance of control as he came apart in her arms, panting as he held her tightly. She laid in his arms as he leaned over her, their lower bodies still joined below the water.

"I'll never leave you, I promise, Clarke." He whispered into her ear. Clarke tightened her legs around his waist as he shuddered his release into her.

"I know. You never let me down." She said as she kissed his neck sweetly.


	6. Chapter 6

Clark turned in bed to stare at what lay beside her. Bellamy's shirtless form was curled around her body protectively and she smiled looking at his peaceful face. He looked so young when he slept, like the twenty something he was. Those eyelashes of his did not belong on a man. They were much to full and beautiful, but she liked to see them resting on his closed eyelids.

He had carried her back to her quarters and they have fucked each other's brains out and then snuggled together for the last few hours. She appreciated his lack of foreplay, they didn't have time for it. She knew that Bellamy could be as gentle as any other lover she had ever had, but he was trying so hard to impress her. She appreciated his effort, and she would miss the soreness in her muscles and other areas when it was gone.

She smoothed a loose curl of hair away from his face. She saw more than he gave her credit for. He always thought he was being measured against some unknown bar. His mother had done quite a hack job on him. Bellamy acted confident, but when it came down to it, he didn't think he measured up. Either as a good man, a decent soldier, or a worthy brother. So he tried his hardest and ran head long into stupid situations just to prove himself. He was worthy of everything he wanted and wasn't allowed to have. They had precious little time. The thought that all he might was the life of pain and despair the 100 has lived through, and this one burst of happiness before it all ended for good. It wasn't fair, not for him, not for her.

Clarke sat up and pulled the sheets around her body. She looked at the handwritten calendar on the wall. Twenty four hours, that was when the bunker would be sealed. Pulling her clothes on she headed towards where Kane slept.

She knocked on the door, "Kane, you up?" Clarke glanced at the time. It was early in the morning, but not that early. Kane had stayed behind to help those who had no one, the abandoned families, those with no friends. He really was a better man than she gave him credit for. Like Bellamy, Kane fought against the perception that everyone had formed about him. Clarke smiled, if Bellamy had the chance to grow up, she imagined he would be so like Kane that they might seem like relatives.

"Coming." Someone said from inside.

"Clarke? What's up?" Kane asked as he opened the door, rubbing his eyes. Clarke assessed the scruffiness of his beard, his blood shot eyes, his tired gaze. He must've run himself ragged.m, and even then she still couldn't get over his relationship with her mother. Clarke knew that Kane was sleeping with her mother, but it still unnerved her a little. She had seen him as the enemy for so long it was hard not to view him that way, even though he didn't deserve her animosity.

"Can I talk to you?" She asked, indicating for the conversation to happen in the hallway with a tilt of her head.

Kane nodded and yawned. He closed the door behind him and waited for her to speak.

"Did you know Bellamy plans to stay behind and die?" She asked.

Kane nodded, "That was decision."

"What if I told you, I had another option."

Kane crossed his arms, "I'm listening."

* * *

Clarke opened the door and tried to be as quiet as possible, but Bellamy cracked an eye open and glared at Clarke.

"Who is he?" Bellamy snarled.

Clarke's sighed dramatically at his put upon suspicion, "Ice Nation warrior, all muscles and low IQ. Gorgeous blonde hair and green eyes. Plus, he's fourteen inches." She jeered holding her hands up to illustrate the fake lover's length.

Bellamy rolled his eyes and pulled her underneath his body. She squealed as he pulled her down. He hovered above her in a push up position, "Oh really, can he do this?" Bellamy teased and dove beneath the covers. Bellamy traced each peace of skin that was bared to him. He made sure to lavish attention on each and every scar. He wanted her to know that he saw her as giggled as he tickled her. She kept laughing until he reached her core. He cupped her intimately with his hand. She bit her fist to muffle the sound of her moan as he pushed aside her panties and began to thoroughly kiss her other lips. Rolling his gaze up as he made love to her with his mouth as he watched her thrash and buck from his ministrations. Only his iron grip on her thighs and stomach stopped her from bucking her and him off the bed.

Bellamy's voice rubbed against her skin as he playfully bit the inside of her thighs.

"You win!" She gasped and tried not to scream as he proved how well he knew her pleasure points. He made her come three times before popping his head above the sheets.

Clarke wiggled her hips and flipped him over. She straddled him and began to take off her shirt. "Turnabout is fair play." She cooed.

"Make it hurt, I've been a bad boy." Bellamy joked.

* * *

Kane sat at the desk. He had a bad feeling, but Clarke was right. Octavia would need her brother. Abby didn't know that Clarke had taken her name off the list, and he wasn't about to tell her, even though he knew she would never forgive him. Clarke was a liability and even she understood that. Bellamy was a strong leader and they needed all the strong people they could get in the bunker. He looked down at the empty vial of liquid. Bellamy wouldn't be forgiving him either, but he'd be alive.

* * *

Bellamy slept peacefully next to Clarke. She had exhausted him on purpose. Taking the needle from the pocket of her discarded pants she loaded the syringe with the sedative and paralytic mix.

She rubbed the numbing liquid on his arm as he lay curled around her. Bellamy mumbled something in his sleep as she pushed the needle into the upper muscle of his arm. She pushed the plunger down in the syringe and watched as the sedative slowly made its way through his system. She monitored his pulse with a light touch on his neck.

Bellamy stirred, but she had tossed the syringe already, "Hey you." He said sleepily.

Clarke smiled happily, she cupped his face gently, "I love you so much." She whispered against his lips.

Bellamy kissed her back, "Love you too." He tried to reach around to pull her closer, but his muscles wouldn't obey. He looked at his limbs with a murky confusion.

"It's okay, Bellamy. It's going to be alright, I promise." Clarke whispered.

Bellamy tried to move his body, but he was paralyzed. He rolled his eyes up to Clarke who was watching him calmly. Horror rose in his heart. He wanted to shout, but his voice came out hoarse and weak, "What did you do? Clarke? What did you do?" His voice creaked slightly as the paralytic and sedative began to affect his vocal cords.

"You have to live. I can't lose anyone else. You'll survive, and live on. I can't watch you die. Not you too." She whispered against his lips.

"No." He groaned. "Don't do this, please…don't….Clarke." He droned out as the paralytic and sedative took him under. It was a mild paralytic so he could still breathe, but she knew him. A sedative alone wouldn't have stopped him, or kept him under long enough.

Kane stepped into the room. Without a word, he threw Bellamy's limp body over his shoulder in a fireman's carry. Clarke leaned over and kissed his forehead behind Kane's back. Bellamy rolled his eyes up and watched her as Kane carried him away. He promised he wouldn't leave her. _I promised!_ He screamed inside his caged body.

"I'll take care of him, I promise." Kane said and nodded farewell to Clarke as he carried the younger man out of Arkadia. The rest of Arkadia evacuated for the bunker.

Clarke nodded, tears in her eyes. She leaned against the windowsill of her room and began to sob uncontrollably. _This is the way it has to be. He'll live._ She didn't like the idea of burning to death inside this metal can, but it was better than her and Bellamy burning to death. She looked down at the second vial she had taken from her mother's storage. She nodded and loaded the syringe. Her mind made up.

* * *

Bellamy fought the drugs as best he could, but Clarke had done her best to entomb him inside his body. The best he got was a mumble out.

"It's for the best, really Bellamy. You'll thank her after you realize what she did for you." Kane explained hollowly. Even he didn't believe the lie, but he knew their people needed them both. Both Kane and Bellamy were symbols of strength for different generations in Arkadia. People looked to both of them on how to act.

"Abby." Bellamy ground out through gritted teeth.

Kane stopped walking, "What?" He asked with Bellamy still slung over his shoulder.

"Feel….without….Abby." Bellamy sputtered our. Drool and spittle leaking form his mouth. Those few words were the best he could manage. Kane sighed. He understood the whole of what Bellamy was saying. _How would I feel if it was Abby who was dying? If I had survived without Abby?_

Kane swung Bellamy around and placed him on the ground. Bellamy pleaded with his eyes. His hand gripped the lapel of Kane's black jacket, "Not…without….her." His grip was weak, his fingers barely able to curl around the material. "Can't….die…alone." With every word a fine tremble shot through Bellamy's body.

"This is what she wants. She wants you to live. I don't agree with her choice either, but she's right. We need you."

Bellamy's head tilted and lolled to one side. He was trying to shake his head and that was the best he could, "Need her more. My choice." Bellamy sputtered out.

Kane sighed again, "Shit." Kane agreed with Bellamy too. Leaving Bellamy where he sat he ran back to Clarke's quarters.

"Clarke! Clarke, get your ass in gear, we have to move and I'm not leaving you here to die." Kane growled rounding the corner of the abandoned Arkadia. Somehow, some way, he'd find a safe place for those two.

As he rounded the corner and opened Clarke's door he scanned her room. He thought she might've run off somewhere until he saw a pale hand on the other side of the bed. Running towards it, Kane dropped to his knees.

Picking up the empty vial next to her Prine form, he cursed. Clarke had injected herself with her mother's night blood concoction.

"No, oh no, Clarke." Kane breathed and tried not to lose his composure. Clarke began to seize, which is probably how she'd ended up on the floor to begin with. Kane rolled her to side and kept her from swallowing her tongue as best he could.

"You Griffin's never do anything easy, do you?" Kane grunted as he lifted Clarke into his arms. Angling most her weight to be on his left arm, he grabbed a couple of syringes, a bottle of anti-seizure meds, a bottle of acetylcholinsterase inhibitors, and a second bottle of Abby's night blood concoction. He couldn't do anything about the benzodiazopine in Bellamy's system, but he could reverse the paralysis.

Kane laid Clarke against the passenger seat of a encased humvee. He strapped her in and then slung the bag of night-blood medication around her neck. He also threw in a couple of ice packs.

Returning to Bellamy, Kane went to his knees and drew up 10 cc's of the anti-paralytic into the syringe.

Turning to Bellamy he pulled down the younger man's pants until his hip was visible, "Brace yourself, this is gonna hurt." Kane warned and stuck the needle into Bellamy's thigh. Bellamy's muscles locked involuntary and then he he sighed as his muscles and limbs flooded with feeling.

"Fuck me." Bellamy breathed against the ground as he pushed himself up into a sitting position.

"I prefer bitter doctors." Kane said laughing as Bellamy recovered.

"Noted." Bellamy said and stood up shakily. Kane helped to steady him gently.

"Listen. Clarke did either a very smart thing or a very foolish thing." Bellamy looked up.

"No shit! Really?" Bellamy glanced down at himself and raised his eyebrows sarcastically.

"Nope, that was the right call. I mean something even more dangerous. She injected herself with her mother's experimental night blood concoction. I think she was trying to survive the primafaya if she could find shelter." Kane explained.

"Damnit, Clarke." Bellamy swore and looked towards the humvee Kane had come from.

"I loaded her, enough anti-seizure meds, and another dose of the night-blood stuff into the humvee. If you can get her conscious and prevent brain damage after the seizures, she might survive. If it works, you'll need to take that stuff too, in order to survive. There maybe a small sealed off clinic about five clicks from here. Abby found a mention of it in one of the medics' journals."

"Five clicks? How much gas do we have?" Bellamy asked.

"Enough to get you there, but not enough to return. The clinic is underground and sealed off. We have no idea what condition it's in. Abby and I were going to check it out before all this mess with the bunker. The only way to find it is the radio tower right next to it. It's disguised as a fake evergreen tree. The code to get into it is 4-8-9-7-0. That's if they lock still has power. You both can ride out the radiation wave in it and if the night blood thing works, you might be above ground before us. Got it?" Kane asked.

Bellamy nodded a little sleepily. Kane slapped him once for good measure, "Wake up. She needs you." He commanded.

Bellamy shook Kane's Honda away, "I got it, I got it. This sedative is just strong."

Kane pulled Bellamy into a tight hug, "May we meet again."

Bellamy returned his friend's embrace, "May we meet again." Kane turned and left as Bellamy stumbled to the humvee.

Looking at Clarke, Bellamy started the engine, "If I don't kill us first, we are so having a talk when you wake up." He grumbled and drove off in a easterly direction, where Kane had pointed towards for the underground clinic.


	7. Chapter 7

Bellamy picked Clarke up from the humvee's passenger seat. He cradled her body gently against his trying to not jostle her too much. She hadn't seized anymore, but he didn't want to accidentally trigger anything.

He laid her carefully against the large radio tower, that truly did look a bad imitation job of a a evergreen tree. Bellamy began to dig around for the door that had to be around somewhere near there. He looked for about an hour before he took a rest. He really didn't have time to rest, but his limbs were still sluggish from the sedative and he wanted to check on Clarke. She was still breathing okay. He noticed a fresh trickle of blood that came from her nose. _Not a good sign._ He thought, but couldn't do anything about it.

Taking the end of his T-shirt he dabbed at the blood. It was darker in color than blood he had seen before. _Maybe not such a bad sign after all._

He poured a little water down her throat and sipped some himself before resuming the search for the elusive underground clinic.

After three more hours of searching he growled and kicked a large boulder that sat a few feet from where Clarke rested. He yelped when the boulder didn't budge and it felt like he broke his foot. He should've known that would happen, except when his foot connected to the boulder, it made a hollow metallic sound instead of the thick thud of stone. Bellamy knocked on the boulder and found it was fake, but looked real. After a few minutes of fumbling around the gigantic thing he found a small key pad under some fake moss. Typing in the numbers Kane had given him, he waited until he heard a click then a loud hiss. Contained air spewed around his feet as the boulder disconnected from its base. Lifting the trap door he looked down at the stairs. He wanted to go first, but was afraid it might close behind him.

Climbing back up the stairs, he picked up Clarke and carried her down the stairs. He didn't close the door, but predictably, it automatically closed behind him after he reached a certain point on the stairs.

"Closed in like a can of tuna." He murmured while carrying Clarke further into the earth.

As he walked, motion sensing lights flickered on. It was an optimistic sign. The stairwell ended in a small hallway that opened up to a wide white room. There were seven open operating tables in front of him. Off to the right we're rooms that must've been intended for private rooms and to the left looked like some kind of mess hall that could also be a cafeteria. Looking around he noticed there was a second level. He found a small stairwell behind the cafeteria. It led upstairs to a balcony that overlooked the operating room and then led to private quarters. Two private offices were behind the balcony, and a small control module off to the left of the offices. He laid Clarke gently on one of the couches in an office and went to explore the facility.

Looking at the control module he started to experiment turning knobs. He wasn't as tech savvy as Raven, but he eventually figured out, it was a basic security system with some cameras placed around the area that had a feed directly to the console.

After fiddling a little with that, he went downstairs to check on the supplies. They had plenty of medical supplies and maybe enough food storage to last two years between the two of them. If the night-blood cure worked though they could go topside possibly as soon as one or two years. Bellamy climbed the stairs wearily and sat next to Clarke in a hard metal chair. He pulled a small throw off one end of the couch and covered her in it. Touching his hand to her skin, he estimated that she wasn't too clammy and not feverish, just unconscious.

Bellamy didn't want to go to sleep, but the sedative was starting to drag him under. As he leaned back and crossed his ankles he let exhaustion and the drugs take him under, all the while staring at Clarke.

* * *

Clarke creaked her eyes open. Her mouth tasted like cotton and metal and she felt shaky. She was looking at s sterile white ceiling instead of the metallic gray of the Arkadia ship.

"—the hell?" She asked herself as she tried to sit up. _Bad idea._ She thought as her field of vision swam in different directions. She felt like her head was on a rollercoaster and in a vice at the same time.

Once the world stopped spinning she swung her legs over what appeared to be a pretty comfy couch. If her body didn't feel like one giant bruise she might've enjoyed the couch for a nap.

Looking up, she noticed Bellamy asleep or passed out his legs crossed at the ankles. His head resting on his chest as his arms were crossed. Somehow even unconscious he looked intimidating.

"Well that didn't go according to plan." She muttered and tried to stand up. Her legs were a little wobbly, but other than that she seemed okay. Checking herself for fever or other nasty symptoms she assessed her current situation.

"Underground, medical facility of some type. Hermetically sealed?" She thought aloud and swung around to the camera console. Fires and hellish radiation rained down outside. "Right." She murmured. _Even if the night blood thing had worked, if I'd stayed above ground at Arkadia, I would probably be a bar-b-qued blonde by now._

Turning toward Bellamy she limped over to his still form. She brushed a lock of hair away from his face. His hand shot out like a snake and captured her hand.

"What do you think you are doing?" He said clearly as he snapped his eyes open.

Clarke went to her haunches to meet his eyes, "I deserve that grumpy attitude." She said.

"Grumpy? Try pissed. You left me." He ground out between gritted teeth, a fine rage growing behind his voice.

"I wanted you to live. I—", she began.

Bellamy ignored her words and picked her up. Clarke reflexively wrapped her legs around his waist as he pressed her body against his and the wall. He had effectively trapped her, but she didn't mind. His kisses were desperate, as if she was air and he was drowning without it. His kisses were so rough that she felt as if he might bruise her, but again she didn't care.

His fingers pressed into her skin. She felt the strength in those fingers, he could push them through her skin and peel her like a rope fruit. She broke the kiss and met his eyes. He was almost crazed, like some kind of wild animal that had been let off its leash.

He grabbed at her clothing, fumbling with her belt, trying to get her naked as quickly as possible. He fumbled at the triple buttons and she felt his hand rip the fabric to create a space for his hips. He didn't bother to pull her panties down, just pushed them aside and then he was inside her. Clarke gasped in air as he took her roughly against the wall. They had always been rough, but this was primal. Bellamy held one of her legs with his hand, gripping her tightly as his other hand was planted next to her face. He began to use that hand to hold her neck stable as he pounded into her. Clarke took all he had to give. He released her leg, and her leg touched the floor lightly. He snaked that hand between their joined bodies and began to gently pluck at her pearl. Clarke arched her back, her nails digging into his shoulders through his clothing as she gripped him tightly for support.

Bellamy laid his forehead against her as he continued his thrusts and grunted, "Come for me, baby. Come for me." His whisper was harsh and dangerous. She had frightened him, and this was his way of regaining his sanity. Claiming her, marking her as his. It was primitive, and rough, but Clarke couldn't help but smile. Most people would've argued, would've picked a fight, but Bellamy had chosen to claim her. Reassure himself she was still there, they were still together.

Her world exploded in pleasure as the both gave into their release together at the same time. Bellamy dropped his head to the spot between her shoulder and neck, panting against her skin as he shuddered and spasms inside her. Clarke held him as he came apart for her. She rubbed her hands along his neck and down his back, soothing him.

"I'm sorry. Forgive me." She whispered against his ear as she continued to pet him and hold him.

Bellamy spoke against her skin, "Forgiven." He responded. Clarke smiled. He had such a big heart. How could those idiots on the Ark not seem him for the good man he was. All they saw was a factory station reject, to be fair, she had seen him as a Machiavellian bully the first time she had met him. But not too long after that she had seen how his sister's pain hurt him, how all the 100's pain and suffering ate at him. He felt everything so deeply, but he had such a capacity for forgiveness.

"I love you, Bellamy." She said gently.

"Did I hurt you?" He asked, his voice gravel as he continued to lean against her.

Clarke shook her head. He felt the movement and placed his hand around her neck, gripping it slightly, "Tell me the truth." He rasped out.

Clarke smiled, "You didn't hurt me, you stubborn bastard." He chuckled and kept his hand where it was, a primal claiming grip around her neck, not hurting, just holding.

He titled her head so she met his gaze head on, "Don't ever do anything like that, again." He ordered.

She didn't respond.

"I won't survive your death." His voice wavered on the word death.

"Clarke gripped his head in her own grasp, "I can't promise I won't try to protect you." She whispered. "I won't lie to you. Only truth between us."

Bellamy sighed, "Only truth." He agreed.

They both sank to the floor, their strength sapped. Bellamy rolled over to the right so he was crushing her anymore, "Sorry about the pants." He commented, not really sorry at all.

"Don't be smug." She chided. "Or do you have seamstress skills I'm unaware of?" She asked joking.

"Eh. I can sew if I have to, just don't expect anything award winning." He said while running his hand through his sweaty hair.

"You can sew?" Clarke asked turning to look at him curiously.

Bellamy shrugged, "We didn't have much on the Ark. Whatever clothes we had, we wore until they fell apart. I got pretty good at mending any small holes or patches. Plus as O grew, I had to piece together clothes for her." He said as if it were nothing. To him, it was his life, to Clarke it was saddening. She and her mother were Alpha station. While food shortages and other things would affect them, they could still purchase new clothes easily.

Clarke took Bellamy's hand. She didn't say anything, but held his hand, trying to convey her sympathy.

Bellamy looked at her and saw the pure empathy she felt for him. She didn't pity him, it her was only her heart that hurt for him. Tugging her arm closer to him he smiled, "It was my life Clarke. I counted myself lucky, how many of us got to have a sister? Especially a sister like O. I'm sure you had fun stuff. When did they start grooming you to be the next doctor?" He said gently. Trying to take that hurt look out of her eyes.

Clarke thought about it. Her formal training had started when she was around fifteen. But if she was honest, her mother had been training her since she was old enough to speak.

"A long time ago actually." She whispered.

"Did you always want to be a doctor?" His voice was careful in the question, he already knew the answer.

Clarke thought about how much she hated surgery and all the medical training. She was a natural at it, but she didn't enjoy it. Her true passion was nurturing young ones or painting. She even liked to volunteer and teach painting.

She shook her head, "No, but we didn't get to pick and choose our lives." Her voice was sure of itself, the medic training she had received he saved her and countless lives more times over since they been sent to the ground. It was second nature to her now, but that hadn't always been her passion.

She cleared her throat and smiled sadly, "What was Octavia like as a child?"

Bellamy's smiled widened as he thought it his little sister, "Spirited. She only knew the life beneath the floor, but she never stopped dreaming. She always tried to sneak out. She didn't complain about her lack of friends, clothes, or money. The only thing she ever really wanted was freedom." He said, sadness clouding his thoughts. "And now she's locked inside a bunker. Locked underneath the floor again."

Clarke gripped his hand tighter, "She's a fighter, a survivor. She'll be fine."

He nodded silently. He stood and pulled his pants closed together. Outstretching his hand he held it out for her to grasp, "Let's get you some more clothes. And then we can talk about this nightblood stuff." He said. Clarke took his hand and stood, holding her pants around her waist with the other hand.

"Alright." She agreed and followed him downstairs to the supply closets he had discovered.

* * *

After eating something that resembled jerky and crackers, Bellamy and Clarke began explore the ins and outs of their medical bunker.

Bellamy and Clarke were exploring a section of one of the forgotten closets, it had some clothing, a few extra metal chairs when the both heard a rumble. Bellamy moved one of the chairs to the side to get a better look at the inventory.

Clarke was trying on a new pair of pants, when she closed the zipper up the crotch they both looked up as a rumble started at the end of the closet.

Clarke looked at Bellamy, fear in her face, "The air pressure must've changed when you opened the bunker." She gasped. The rumble grew louder as things began to collapse in the closet. The closet was so deep in the bunker that neither one of them had thought anything would happen if they start d to move things around. It was such a long hallway to run down.

They were almost out of it, when Bellamy shouted, "Clarke! Look out!" He screamed as he pushed her out of the way of a falling beam.

Clarke fell to the ground knocked unconscious as that section of the wall fell on top of Bellamy.

—

Bellamy coughed lightly and grimaced as his chest constricted in pin. Opening his eyes, he assessed the cluster fuck they had ended up in. Bellamy was pinned against the far right side of the wall of the closet. The left side of the closet had fallen on his right shoulder, arm and lower part of his body. He tried to lift the weight of the wall off him, but it didn't budge.

"Jesus." He breathed. Looking around he saw blonde hair off to the right side of him. He couldn't tell if Clarke was covered by debris or just knocked out.

"Clarke! Clarke! Answer me!" Bellamy yelled as he let trying to reach her. He stretched his arm out, but he couldn't reach her. She was just out of reach.

"Ugh." Clarke groaned and opened her eyes. Snapping to attention she tried to stand up and groaned again. "Bellamy?" She asked.

"Over here." He rasped out. Clarke grimaced as she brushed glass and some kind of dusty debris off her arms. "Clarke, your arm." Bellamy noticed.

Clarke pulled her her left arm in front of her. Embedded into her forearm was a huge piece of what looked like some kind of ceramic glass. Clarke gritted her teeth. _How come this kind of shit doesn't hurt until I look at it._ She grumbled in her head.

Clarke looked at the shard and swore again. She tried to rotate her arm and gasped as pain flashed through all the nerves in her arm. She would have to remove the debris in order to help Bellamy.

"Clarke, don't take it out. You might not be able to stop the bleeding." Bellamy ordered.

"I don't think it hit anything major." She murmured and began to rip up a small shirt on the floor to use as a tourniquet. "I'm more worried about you. If by some miracle you're not crushed you could be developing compartment syndrome." She said, musing aloud to herself.

"But—" he began.

"Shut up, Bellamy. We don't have time to argue." She snarled and put a piece of wood between her teeth. Then she wrapped the remaining shreds of the shirt around the fingers of her uninitiated arm. She then gripped the ceramic piece in her arm and pulled it gently. She began to wiggle it gently, extracting it inch by inch. Once it was free, she spit it the piece of wood and blew out a breath. Inspecting her wound, she touched it slightly and winced. It was tender and hurt like a bitch, but amazingly no arteries or veins were torn. Not wasting time, she wrapped a light tourniquet bandage to squelch the small amount of bleeding there was. Getting to her knees she crawled towards where Bellamy leaned pinned against the far wall.

"How do you feel?" Clarke asked inspecting where the debit laid against his body.

"Okay." He whispered then whimpered slightly when her arm hit his stomach as she began to feel around the parts of his body reachable through the small gap between him and the part of the wall.

"Shit." She whispered. "Sorry." She apologized.

"What? What's wrong?" He asked turning only his head to look at her.

"I think your stomach is distended, which means nothing good. And what I can feel of your right arm feels cool to the touch, which could be a circulation problem. Let me see if I can find a lever." She mumbled to herself.

Clarke had never enjoyed science, but had paid attention in physics. Mostly because it was one of the few scientific classes that could be used in real life. She didn't have time for theoretical math, but physics she could apply in the medical field.

Finding a large metal beam she tested it. It wouldn't break easily. Bringing her discovery and basic lever towards Bellamy she measured how far she could wedge it between him and he wall that was collapsed on top of him. She had used some of the scraps of shirt and made a makeshift rope. Tying it to the end sticking out, she walked to the side.

"How you doing?" Clarke asked Bellamy.

His head was leaning against his chest slightly. He mumbled something. Clarke dropped the rope and walked to him. He was barely conscious. Clarke slapped he side of his face. "Wake up! Wake up, Bellamy! Don't you dare die on me." Clarke shouted.

Bellamy blinked his eyes open slightly, "So bossy." He slurred.

"You know it." She retorted back. _I have to get this off of him._ She thought frantically.

Using all her strength, she pulled the rope. She heard the metal creak as it pushed against the debris. "Come on you son of a bitch!" She screamed. She leaned her back against one of the walls and put her feet up, trying to push with her legs. She heard a creaking as the debris separated slightly away from Bellamy.

"Bellamy! Try to crawl out!" Clarke shouted, but Bellamy's body lolled forward and fell to the floor.

"Damn it!" She screamed. She did her best to anchor the rope the door handle of the closet. It wouldn't hold for long. Running she grabbed Bellamy's shoulders and dragged him as quickly as she could. She pulled him out just as the debris came crashing down, crushing the place he had just been in.

Tapping his face, she tried to get him to wake up. When he didn't respond she dragged him to a nearby wheelchair and took him to a portable gurney.

"Easy on the jerky next time, Bells." Clarke tried to joke as she tried to lift him into the gurney. She ended up half dragging him, trying to keep his spine as stable as possible. Thankfully, she the medical bunker lacked in foundation stability it made up for medical machinery. There was a body scanner than literally came to life with one button and could scan any patient on a gurney. Clarke pressed "full body scan" and watched as the machine whirred and beeps as it scanned Bellamy's body from crown to toes. The report flashed before her eyes on a console. He had crush injuries to his torso and right left and arm. She could stabilize his leg, arm, and rib easily. Fractures sucked because they took so long to heal, but were easy to set. The crush injuries and internal bleeding were a different matter. His stomach was distended and hard to the touch. If she didn't perform surgery and fix the internal bleeding he would die.

She wasn't qualified as a surgeon, but luckily the machines had how-to's with step by step.

Clarke ran to a nearby shower stall and rinsing her hands and pulled on some scrubs and a surgery mask. She was more thank likely about to kill the man she loved, but if she could minimize the risk of infection she would do it.

Following the on screen instructions she gave Bellamy a strong sedative. Once his heartbeat and breathing became normal, she intubated him and placed him on a breathing machine. That taken care of she began the surgery. She meticulously cut where instructed, used the rib spreader and sealed what bleeds she could find. Thankfully, his blood pressure stayed semi-stable throughout the entire ordeal. When she looked up and checked the clock, she counted and realized she had been operating on Bellamy for ten hours. Taking a breath she checked his vitals and realized he was doing remarkably well.

Taking the tube out of his throat she checked his breathing. _Decent._ She assessed. His chest was expanding better than it had been before the surgery. Using the time he was still recovering from the sedative to fix what she could, she began to wrap his ribs with medical tape. The she covered the wrapping in tight gauze. Then she worked on the fractures to his legs and arms. By the time she was finished she was exhausted.

Sitting in a chair next to his gurney, Clarke let sleep claim her.

* * *

Bellamy woke up gently, and then remembered what had happened. He frowned when he breathed deeply. He looked down to see his chest covered in gauze and his arm immobilized by a sling.

Sitting up slightly in bed, he looked down. Clarke, still in bloody scrubs and covered in dirt from the closet collapse, was asleep at his bedside.

Smiling he ran his hand along the top of her hair. It was tied in a large bun, under some kind of scrub cap.

"Doctor Clarke." He breathed. Clarke stirred slightly and rearranged her head on her arm as the pillow. Instead of waking her, Bellamy watched her as slept. Both of them were exhausted and injured. He glanced at Clarke's arm and realized she had wrapped it up before helping him.

He rubbed his knuckles lightly against her cheek. Clarke waved at his hand like it was knat buzzing at her skin. The motion made him smile, "You're drooling, Princess." He teased.

Clarke's sat up suddenly. Part of the disposable paper cloth on the gurney broke off, sticking to her forehead, obscuring her entire face. Bellamy busted out laughing so hard he had to grimace slightly and try to reign in the belly laughing. He was almost just smiling, until she made some kind of inarticulate noise, somewhere between a angry badger and a squirrel squaring off as she pulled the stuck paper off her face, bunching it in her hands. The laughter took him by surprise again and he ended up on his side he laughed so hard.

Icy blue eyes flared at him. Usually a glare of that much hatred would make him shut up, especially one coming from Clarke. But that noise just kept replaying in his head and he couldn't stop his giggle fit. Eventually she cracked a smile, but still glared at him.

"Shut it! Or I'll poke you somewhere you won't like." Clarke threatened.

Bellamy continued to laugh, "I might just blush." He teased.

Clarke took his temperature and inspected the stitches along his abdomen. "These look good."

Clarke raised an eyebrow, "In your professional medical opinion?" She joked.

Bellamy smiled, "I have to keep these abs scar free for the ladies. I'm invested." He teased back.

She smirked and leaned up for a quick kiss. Bellamy cupped her face in both hands and deepened the kiss, but winced when he leaned up, "Sorry, that was real smooth." He remarked.

Clarke's smile deepened, "You just had major surgery, you don't have to be smooth. Besides, I like rough edges." She whispered.

Bellamy grinned into her kiss lightly, when she tried to pull away he held her face close to his.

"We still haven't talked about what happened yesterday. Or about the night blood thing." He said gravely.

Clarke nodded "We can talk about it, but let's be realistic. You just had surgery and we are not going anywhere for two years, at the very least. We've got time to discuss just about anything." Bellamy nodded and leaned back.

"You're right." He acquiesced and tried to get comfortable.

Clarke checked his IV, for his pain medications, antibiotics and basic fluids. They looked good. "I'm going to go shower and then I'll fix us dinner. Although for you, it's going to be mostly broth and ice chips." She mentioned. He groaned, but smiled as she sauntered towards the showering area.

* * *

Clarke stood under the hot water letting the heat and pressure pound down on her. She tried not to think about what had just happened. In the last two days, she had drugged the man she loved, taken what could have been a lethal dose of a blood byproduct and then performed surgery after going through a traumatic experience of almost being crushed.

Sinking to the floor, she wrapped her hands around her knees and pulled her head close to her chest. She let the tears flow freely here. No one would see her cry, only she would know. She had to be strong for Bellamy. He as still recovering and would need help, and she was all he had. She had almost separated them forever, only to have him break all her perfectly laid plans and lock them in this tomb. She had done the math. Both of them could possibly survive on the food and water storages here, but not longer than two years.

As she lifted her head up, she looked at the small blisters forming on her arms and legs. She scampered out from under the spray of the spray of the water. The shower water must've been connected to a water source that had been exposed to radiation in the surface.

Luckily, only her arms and legs had been affected. Checking her face, she was thankful the radiative blisters hadn't popped up. Turning to look at her back, she grimaced. The blisters were all up and down her back. Thankfully her hands were saved from having them as well. Wearing gloves would make Bellamy suspicious. Choosing clothing that wouldn't rub against the painful postules, but would also hide them from Bellamy's observant gaze was tough. She settled for a light pair of pants and light tank top with a gauzy sweater over her arms. She had loosely wrapped the skin underneath the clothing to prevent infection. She couldn't let him see this, not until she became terminal or the night blood solution kicked in.

"Well, this will be pretty empirical data to show if the nightblood solution works." She said tightly.

Emerging from the bathroom she walked to where Bellamy laid resting.

He turned his head when she came around to his bedside, "How was your shower? Feel better?" He asked.

"Good, didn't leave you any hot water though. It's going to be sponge baths for you for the next weeks until you heal up completely." She said.

Bellamy's eyes danced in amusement, "I don't mind so much, as long as you are the one with the sponge."

Clarke snorted and stood to begin cooking dinner.

"Only you could find a sponge bath as something to look forward to." She chided.

"A man takes what a man can get." Bellamy relied.

"We all do." Clarke said seriously as she stirred the broth for both of them. Glancing down at the blisters she could feel below the lining of her clothing. _We all do._ She thought again to herself.


End file.
